That Time I Had Sex At Formal


“Are we really doing this right now?” He whispers as he unzips his pants, cautiously looking around at our empty surroundings.

The liquor sloshing around inside me from the bar tab we just ditched made me feel confident, sexy, and probably a little stupid considering anyone could simply walk up those back stairs and catch us. I pulled down my panties and hiked up my dress, presenting my bare ass to him like a present. Yup, it’s happening.

At this point, you’re probably wondering how the hell I got away with having sex at a formal. I’m questioning it myself, because I still can’t believe it actually happened. Even more than that, I can’t believe we actually got away with it.

It all started with this stupid brilliant sex quiz designed “for couples to help them discover the fantasies that they might both enjoy together.” I’m pretty ‘vanilla’ when it comes to sex, so I thought this might open my eyes to new things the boyf and I could use to spice up the relationship. We’re right in the middle of that nine month slump where the sex is good because he already knows what you like, but it can get a little stale. Sometimes I don’t even bother to shave. What? It’s not like he’s not gonna fuck me anyway.

So I thought taking this quiz would help get us out of our comfort zone. One night after finishing up another riveting season of “Mad Men” in bed, I made him take the quiz with me. After spending a good amount of time Googling some of the terms, we finished and compared the results. After breathing a sign of relief that he didn’t want to slap me with a cane or watch other men bukkake me, we discovered that we both wanted to have sex in a place where we might get caught. We made a couple jokes about when and where we would want to do it and then he put in his retainer and we both fell asleep with our mouths open. Super sexy stuff.

How did a lame, boring couple go from missionary/girl on top sex a few times a week to having sex in public? I’ll tell you how: alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol coupled with a DGAF senior attitude and some minor trespassing. You know, the usual.

A few weeks after we took the quiz, we went to my last sorority formal ever. Mind you, the boyfriend and I don’t get out much. We’re at that boring stage where we’d rather stay in and catch up on our shows than go out and spend money at the bars. We used to go out all the time (hell, that’s how we met), but we’ve been out of the game for awhile now. Our livers were completely unprepared for what was about to happen. I spent a good two hours getting ready, so this was the best he’s seen me look in about six months. I wasn’t sure he would recognize me sans leg hair and zit cream, but when I yelled at him to put on a different tie, he knew it was really me.

Formal started out at a Mexican restaurant with mediocre food and cheap pitchers of margaritas. We split a pitcher, barely touched our food and by the time we left, we were both feeling it. His hands were all over me in the bus ride to the venue, which was a local bar where we shared many a drunk makeout before he stopped fucking around and made it official. Before we even got to the bar, we were making out in the seat and I was getting death glares from my President. “Fuck it, I’m a senior,” I said for the first (but definitely not the last) time that night.

If you’ve never been to a bar tab, it’s where a fraternity or sorority rents out an entire bar and provides unlimited alcohol up to a certain dollar amount. You can order anything you want, including shots, as long as they aren’t outrageously expensive. We got off the bus and it was a race to the bar. I ordered two drinks with one bartender, and he ordered two drinks with another, a strategy we had planned out before because bar tabs are a sprint, not a marathon. There’s no knowing when a bar tab will run out, and once it’s out, you have to start paying for drinks. Fuck that.

Formal was a mess. The tequila in the pitchers of margaritas must’ve been laced with steroids (or just really strong tequila) because everyone was angry. One sister punched another sister, a different sister ended up falling asleep in the bathroom and someone had to climb under the stall to rescue her, and at least two people were kicked out. In case it isn’t abundantly clear, we were having a great time.

After my third trip to the bar, I was informed that the bar tab was over. Done. Drained. I wasn’t about to pay for my own drinks, so I decided to have some fun a different way. I was feeling drunk, brave, and a little horny. I went up to my boyfriend’s ear and whispered, “Let’s have sex.”

Except we were in a loud, crowded bar, so he couldn’t hear me.

“WHAT?” he screamed back at me. “SEX. YOU AND ME. NOW.” He understand that one. His eyes lit up like a little kid on Christmas. I still wasn’t sure what the fuck I was doing or how we would do it, but I already committed, so fuck it. It’s happening.

My vagina was about three steps ahead of my brain, because I had no idea where the fuck this was supposed to go down. But I had to act cool because he was sooo into it. You are a sexy sex goddess and you are going to blow his mind, once you find the proper location, I said to myself.

Public Sex Tip #1: Find A Secluded Location
The bathrooms were full of girls crying and throwing up, so I had to think fast. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I need to find a place to fuck. I was frantically looking around the bar for something, anything. I need a closet, a hidden corner, an empty bar, just something. Right before I was about to give up, I saw it. In the back of the bar was a flight of stairs leading to, what exactly? If you were to ask my boyfriend now, he would say heaven. I dragged him up this stairs, right past the rope saying “DO NOT ENTER,” his hands fondling my ass the entire time.

When we reached the top, we found a dark and empty bar. Jackpot.

Public Sex Tip #2: Go Fucking Wild
We started making out, and not like, cute little kisses that convey the love and affection we feel for one another. It was wet, messy, and so, so hot. We were like animals, drunk and pawing at each other’s limbs.

Honestly, if someone was watching us, it probably didn’t look that hot. We probably looked like slobbering drug addicts about to take their next hit, and in a sense we kind of were. Even if we could stop, it was already too late. I needed him right now, inside me, on top of me, all over me.

Public Sex Tip #3: Time Is Of The Essence
It was at the moment that I realized if we were going to do this, we needed to do it quick. Not only because I was horny as fuck, but because anyone could walk up those stairs and into our crazy sex dungeon at any moment. We needed to stop messing around and get down to business. I quickly pulled down my panties and held them in my hand (I didn’t want to leave them dangling on the floor of a nasty bar, gross) while he unzipped his pants.

The alcohol combined with our mutual lust for each other really made for a fabulous cocktail. I felt like a different person — someone who does careless things like have sex in places where they could be caught or buys things without looking at the price tags, or says “surprise me” when getting a hair cut.

That’s when he asked me, “Are we really doing this right now?” My answer was given in the form of presenting my bare ass to him, so, yes, yes we are.

Public Sex Tip #4: Wetter Is Better
So I don’t know if you could guess this by now, but we were kind of flying by the seat of our pants. We had never done this before, alone or together. It was new and exciting and fun, but in the heat of the moment I guess we forgot how to sex because we were so caught up in going as fast as we could before someone could catch us that we almost forgot about foreplay. Ha ha ha, not so fast, buddy. I led his fingers down and up my skirt while I slowly started working my way down to his, you know. He was the perfect size, and before long we were both ready to get this thing going.

Public Sex Tip #5: Choose Positions Wisely
This is where things got tricky. You see, bars are dirty and gross and probably incredibly unsanitary, yet I’m over here chilling with my dress hiked up my body and my ass exposed to the elements. Sitting was completely out the question, as was laying down, obviously, so the only options I really had was standing. AKA balancing. On my feet. In heels. While drunk and trying to have hot, hot sex. You see my dilemma here.

I found a wall to help stabilize myself, which also gave a perfect view of the top of the stairs. Granted, if anyone did come up the stairs, we were both fucked (get it?) because they would also have a perfect view of us, but hey, you can’t win ’em all.

Public Sex Tip #6: Enjoy It While It Lasts
We started “having the sex,” and oh my God, it was great. There’s something about being boned in a dark, creepy, empty bar with the possibility of being caught that gives you the most incredible adrenaline rush. I felt like I was on coke, even though I’ve never done drugs (except Adderall) and drugs are bad. As much of a “high” I was on, I knew it would all come to a crashing halt if someone found us. I needed to speed things up.

I did that thing that all girls do when they’re tired of having sex and just want to get it over with. I said, in my sexiest wanna-be porn star voice, “I want you to come for me, baby.” Well give that boy a collar and chop his balls off, because he fucking listened to me. The only words to come out of his mouth for the next minute were “Oh my God.”

Yeah, yeah, I’m an amazing sex goddess and you worship the ground I walk on, save the kissing for when we get home. We had already been missing from the formal for a good fifteen minutes, and we had to get back down there before anyone realized we were, you know, fucking each other like animals. I pulled my skirt back down and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him in for one last kiss.

He gave me a slap on the ass and we walked back down the stairs, inconspicuously entering the formal again.

No one even noticed we were gone.

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